


Brigid Domestic Life

by iWanttopetyourdog



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Light Knifeplay, One Shot Collection, Post-Time Skip, Post-War, Rated M for Safety, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-27 13:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20760845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iWanttopetyourdog/pseuds/iWanttopetyourdog
Summary: A series of nonlinear one-shots documenting the domestic life between the two queens of Brigid.





	1. Favors

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, I love these two so much, here's another fic of them. I'm still working on my next chapter for my college AU fic, but I was having some difficulty with it. Soooo I decided to go back to the roots and post this in the mean time. But hopefully I'll have that chapter out sooner than later. In the meantime, enjoy these two queens and their time in Brigid.
> 
> Just a lil heads up that while there are references to Brigid being sort of Scotland/Ireland adjacent, I do see some parallels to the Philippines as well so that's where some future inspiration will come from. I'm also gonna try being better about replying to comments on this and other works! I used to be nervous but now I just wanna talk to y'all. So, yeah, enjoy!

Petra leaned against the doors that lead into the official meeting chamber. She placed her head against the sturdy molave door and the slight thump echoed throughout the empty hallway of her palace. The meeting she had held with the ambassadors from Fodlan had proven more stressful than anticipated, this particular set refusing to budge on certain trade deals. They clearly were still trying to exploit the resources Brigid had to offer, and her ability to remain civil was being tested. 

She let out a sigh and began to make her way back to her very own chamber for a bit of respite before the next round of meetings. Ever since her coronation, there had been so much to uptake, and she had done so eagerly. Anything she could do for the sake of her own people, she would do. But by the spirits, were some of Fodlan’s elites incredibly perplexing and purposely difficult. Ever since her coronation she had unfamiliar pangs in her head every once in awhile and a dull ache in her shoulders. 

She had proven herself more than capable of taking the mantle of her kingdom; she spent countless years studying, learning to be a leader and ruler while serving under the best examples Fodlan had to offer. But there were some difficulties that even years of living in Fodlan could not help to alleviate. There were still cultural differences that birthed the prejudices that Fodlan nobles and ambassadors still held in their hearts. Just because she was a very good friend of the Emperor and many of her officials, there was still much work and convincing to be done before the rest of those officials, those who still saw Brigid as a nation of exploitable savages as opposed to people, a nation that would always contain the possibility of a threat in their eyes, could be be anywhere near on board with the independence of Brigid.

While Edelgard held the power to decree it, they both knew it would be a better move politically to have more people agree to it. Yet this path was proving to be difficult. And quite stressful. She was so very, very, stressed.

As she approached her chambers, she heard a beautiful melody coming from her room. A smile fought the stress on her face, but the stress won. The sound of her love idly humming was enough to melt some of the worry away, but the dull ache in her shoulders persisted.

She entered her chambers and saw her gorgeous love sitting at the desk, writing on some stationary. She was relieved to see Dorothea in their chambers. The songstress turned to face Petra, excited to see her Queen. That excitement quickly turned to worry, seeing the look on Petra’s face. Petra took a seat on the foot of their bed, offering Dorothea a tired smile. Dorothea set her pen in its inkwell and made her way to Petra. She settled behind her Queen, wrapping her arms around her and kissing her on her cheek.

“What’s on your mind, my Queen?” The songstress rested her head on Petra’s shoulder as Petra placed her hand on top of Dorothea’s and gave it a squeeze.

“I am wondering if I may ask for a favor. You had offered this service many, many moons ago and I am thinking I may be needing it.” Dorothea raised her eyebrows.

“Oh?” 

“I am in need of a massage. Today has been… very trying. My muscles are full of tenseness.” Dorothea’s eyebrows raised even higher.

“Oh! Of course.” She quickly let go of her hold on Petra and began to work on the knots in her shoulders. Her Queen let out a sigh, leaning into her love’s pressings. They stayed like this for a few quiet moments, but as Dorothea kneaded against her back, her worry only grew. She remembered their days at the academy, where their worries were more to do with classes and missions and did not provide the same amount of stress or burdens that were now placed on her love’s shoulders. 

“What happened today?” The songstress finally asked. She felt Petra’s shoulders tense up a little bit at the question despite Dorothea’s best efforts to combat it. The queen sighed.

“It is similar to my other meetings. I do not like to… bring up the topic of politics in our bedroom, but unfortunately it… continues to be on my mind.” Dorothea stopped massaging her shoulders, releasing Petra from her grip. Dorothea placed a kiss on Petra’s cheek before sitting down in the middle of their bed. 

“Petra, my love, if something is troubling you please tell me. I would want to know.” Petra turned to face Dorothea. The queen took her love’s hand, her gaze glossed over in thought. She began to idly stroke the back of Dorothea’s hand. 

“Many of the nobles of Fodlan still are... looking down on Brigid. They are not having consideration of my peoples’ plights. It is becoming difficult to find an understanding with these ambassadors, even though my ambassadors and I are working to get them to understand. ” Dorothea interlaced their fingers, a thought crossing her head. It was something she had thought of before, but didn’t know if it’d be necessary or if she’d necessarily want to do it. But as she looked at the state of her Queen, she thought it better to face the inevitable sooner than later. “They sometimes are filling our discussions with phrases that are difficult to be comprehending literally, full of more than one meaning, and are looking down on us when we misinterpret-”

“What if I were to deal with them?” Petra looked taken aback. “Let me take care of those conceited bastards. I’ll break their arms for you if you want.”

“Perhaps we can be breaking their arms together.” Petra joked back. The two giggled. Petra shook her head, wishing that were an acceptable answer to her problems. “If breaking their arms were the solution, I would have... done so moons ago.” 

“I know, my love. But in all seriousness, I would be willing to work with them for you.” 

“But Dorothea, I would be thinking political involvement is not something you are desiring.” 

“It… it isn’t my first choice by any means. But if this is how they’re conducting themselves, then who better to deal with them than me? I may even know some of these arrogant nobles flaunting themselves around here. I know a thing or two about dealing with these kinds of people.” 

“I am thinking you know many things… are you sure of this? I do not wish to be making you do anything that would bring you displeasure, my most radiant love.” Dorothea’s cheeks flushed at this new pet name, still getting used to such outright, earnest affection from her Queen. 

“Dealing with those pesky nobles would only be a minor annoyance, but knowing that this stresses you out when I could be doing something to help you would only bring me the most displeasure. I would hate to know that I could be doing something to help you and not do anything about it. Please, let me do this for you.” Petra got up from the foot of the bed, moving closer into Dorothea and sat on her heels. 

“My precious heart, this is… such a large kindness. Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I am, My Queen.” Petra extended her free hand forward to cup Dorothea’s face. The songstress’s eyes shut as she leaned into the touch. 

“You are always offering me such large kindnesses. How can I ever return the favor?” Dorothea closed the gap between them, the connection soft yet passionate. Once Dorothea separated their lips, she connected her forehead to Petra’s.

“I love you and I love being here with you in your beautiful homeland. For you to accept me into your home will always be a kindness so big that I may never be able to fathom it in this lifetime.” Her eyes fluttered open, her twinkling emerald eyes looking into eyes that began to well up. ”All that I can really ask of you, Queen of my heart, is to love me forever like I will always love you.”

Petra kissed her passionately, leaning forward and gently guided Dorothea onto her back. Once Petra was atop the songstress, she separated from her, both of them catching their breath.

“Yes. I will never stop loving you. Thank you Dorothea, for everything.” 


	2. Happy Birthday Dorothea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea and Petra discuss one of Dorothea's birthday gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this has sexual content so if that's not your thing, here's a warning for you! 
> 
> This one-shot is what happens when you get ideas but then you remember you're not comfortable writing smut. Buuuut I hope y'all enjoy!

Dorothea and Petra sat in their chamber, observing a present that had just arrived from Fodlan. They sat at their table in their bedclothes, but their bedtime rituals had been interrupted by a surprising gift. For the songstress’ birthday, a few of their friends from the Strike Force had been sending things over to Brigid. The latest had come with warm regards from none other than Ferdinand von Aegir himself. 

Dorothea picked up the offending gift from the table in front of her, an ornamental silver dagger. Its blade was slightly curved, the hilt meticulously engraved in a classic Adrestian fashion, and its pommel encrusted with an almost comically large ruby. She felt the coolness of the blade with her fingertips, a small shiver running down her spine. 

“It is a little excessive, no?” The songstress observed, as she handed it to Petra.

“It is a very beautiful blade, my love,” Petra was less gentle with her observation. Ever the skilled swordsman, she spun it in the air and caught it to get a feel for its weight. “I am being unsure as to why Ferdinand would be gifting you a weapon. He… knows you possess no desire for battle any longer.”

“Ah, that sweet fool,” Dorothea shook her head, coming to a realization. “That dagger is actually a replica of a prop that I once used in one of my more popular shows at the Mittelfrank Opera. It was a tale of two star-crossed lovers where, in the end, the heroine that I played was forced to end her own life with that very dagger. The thought of no longer having the love of her life with her was too much to bear.” 

“A tragic story, but I am understanding that feeling,” Petra smiled fondly at her love. Dorothea chuckled. “You were not stabbing yourself during the actual performance, were you?” 

“Oh heavens no,” the songstress replied. She got up from her seat to demonstrate, walking towards their bed. “In order to fake my death, I would turn to the side, and just pretend to stab myself on the side not facing the audience, like so.”

She got into character, singing the last few lines of her famous role. She then made the stabbing motion, pretending to stab her own gut, and fell dramatically onto their bed. Petra applauded this little mini performance. Dorothea opened her eyes and propped herself up on the bed in order to face Petra, flashing her queen a cheeky grin. 

“It wasn’t the most realistic way to fake my death but it got the job done. While I am a very committed performer, I would like to not stab myself for performances. Not that the prop dagger would have been sharp enough to do that, anyway.” Petra made her way over to the Dorothea, joining her on the bed, dagger still in hand.

“Then there is a difference between this dagger and your… prop dagger. This dagger possesses sharpness.” 

“Does it now?” Petra nodded. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes as the Queen of Brigid observed her love’s bedclothes. She eyed the flimsy straps of the nightgown, in particular. 

“Indeed. I will be showing you. Stay still.” Petra demanded. Before Dorothea could even react, Petra swiftly cut both straps in half. A gasp was all the songstress could manage. It looked like it was going to be  _ that _ kind of night, and considering it was her birthday, it would have been a less than fulfilling birthday if it went any other way. 

"You know I actually really liked this nightgown,” Dorothea huffed playfully. Petra kissed Dorothea on her forehead before looking back down at her. The smirk on her queen’s face sent a shiver down Dorothea’s spine. Petra carefully placed the dagger flat against Dorothea’s neck and ran it down until its tip reached the top of the night gown. The cool sensation gave the songstress goosebumps.

“I have apologies, my love. I will be getting you another one for your birthday. I must also have apologies again for… continuing to ruin it.” Petra slowly ran the edge of the dagger down the middle of the nightgown, splitting it open to reveal Dorothea’s naked form. Petra was very careful not to tarnish the delicate skin that lie underneath. Had it been anyone else, Dorothea would not have trusted anyone to wield a knife that sharp so close to her. But Petra was someone she entrusted her whole life to, someone who just so happened to have plenty of skills with a blade.

“P-petra, I-” Dorothea was interrupted by a passionate kiss from her queen. The warmth of the clashing of their lips was juxtaposed by a sudden coolness underneath her breast. Dorothea gasped, suddenly acutely aware of how still she needed to be. 

“You are enjoying this?” Petra’s inquiring eyes searched Dorothea’s. The songstress nodded. Petra ran the flat of the dagger from beneath one breast to another. It took all of Dorothea’s self-control to not jerk at the sensation.

“Y-yes I am, my love.” Perhaps Ferdinand’s gift wasn’t so foolish after all. 


End file.
